


Sat In Your Lap

by regala_electra



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 12:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regala_electra/pseuds/regala_electra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>You have a very promiscuous lap." “It’s an equal opportunity lap.”</i> Wherein a Kurt-and-Blaine hosted extravaganza is successful and there is intimacy and innuendo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sat In Your Lap

**Author's Note:**

> Future!fic. For the tumblr prompt: _Kurt sitting on Blaine's lap_. Using a Kate Bush song title because I couldn't help myself.

“You have a very promiscuous lap,” Kurt says airily, settling into the criticized part of Blaine’s anatomy with a welcome familiarity.

“It’s an equal opportunity lap,” Blaine offers. He wraps an arm around Kurt’s waist, fingers automatically making for the buttons of Kurt’s vest. 

He has no actual plans of removing the vest but it’s nice to curl his fingers into the small gaps between the many buttons and dream. There are still guests milling around their apartment after yet another successful Kurt-and-Blaine (Blaine always hears it as a single word, with hardly a breath representing the _and_ ) holiday extravaganza.

Though really, the parties are incredible thanks to Kurt’s guidance and care. Blaine at least has learned to whip up several complicated cocktails when playing bartender to the delight of their friends. He rarely gets to sample his own work as he’s a perpetual lightweight but he’d split a cocktail with Rachel at her insistence. Okay, Blaine really loves lychee so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice, beyond his general dignity. Hence Blaine’s lap becoming an alternate seat for so many people tonight. Cuddles keep him from doing something silly like dragging Kurt off to the master bathroom so Blaine can blow him.

If he hadn’t already lost the bow tie (Brittany had taken it to put her hair up a couple of hours ago), he’d be feeling mighty hot under the collar. Kurt’s proximity never really helps Blaine maintain strictly honorable thoughts.

“Hmm,” Kurt says before leaning in to press a soft kiss on Blaine’s cheek. Whenever they’re this close together, it’s all Blaine can do to keep from staring at Kurt’s eyes. Fortunately Kurt tends to have the same problem. “That would be true if there weren’t quite so many people of a female persuasion who’ve climb aboard the good ship Blaine tonight.”

Blaine raises an eyebrow at that but Kurt laughs, happy to continue on. “Clearly your lap has a bias. What, you didn’t want to tell Finn to take a seat?”

The visual is disturbing on its own, followed by what would inevitably be the awkward emergency room visit. _See, Doctor, my future brother-in-law kind of sat on me so that’s why I’m here. Yes, he’s about twice my size._ “Honestly, I think we’d both be put out if Finn broke my lap.”

“How is that even possible? I don’t think you can break a lap.” Kurt says the next part softly against his ear and _damn him_ , Blaine’s still so sensitive there. It’s amazing he even hears Kurt at all. “For all that we’ve done, it’s safe to say you have a _very_ sturdy lap.”

“Mmm,” Blaine agrees, closing his eyes briefly when Kurt trails his fingers down Blaine’s arm, tangling their fingers together. “Other than sore thigh muscles I’m always good to go.”

“Wanky,” Santana says as she walks past them, her coat halfway on, slinking low around her elbows. She doesn’t bother to pull it up as she blows them a kiss. Santana makes the gesture sarcastically to cover up any chance of genuine approval (it’s there though, they’ve known each other for too long). “I’m taking your bottle of Patrón.”

“You’re welcome. Our liquor cabinet is clearly _your_ liquor cabinet.” Kurt’s nose scrunches up as he pretends to smile and trills out an insincere goodbye, laced with poisonous syrup-sweet offerings that would be deadly if Santana weren’t immune.

“That’s so cute. You’re both still pretending to hate each other.” Blaine can’t help it. It is utterly petty and wholly comforting, as is Kurt’s eyeroll of exasperation when Santana cackles, winning the latest tête-à-tête between her and Kurt. Blaine really ought to keep a scorecard since they’re being so competitive about it. “Don’t worry about the tequila. I got it for free.”

Before Kurt can ask him _how_ he moves in for emergency maneuver number whatever. It’s one of his favorite distraction methods: nuzzling his nose against Kurt’s, simple but effective. 

Kurt’s lips slide against his in response, a familiar back and forth that isn’t about to lead to anywhere particularly adventurous but it still makes his heart race after all these years together. He parts his lips in response so Kurt draws his bottom lip in, sucking a little and it’s all Blaine can do not to immediately drag his free hand in the soft hair at the back of Kurt’s head to keep him close. Deepening the kiss wouldn’t be entirely helpful right now as it’s far too easy to lose himself in Kurt’s touch.

However, Kurt is all too aware of his tricks. “That’s cheating. And you’ll be telling me the _how Blaine Anderson got alcohol for free_ story later.”

Blaine swallows at the _later_ , the way Kurt say it low and gently. That's the kind of later that means after sex, the kind of sex that leaves them messy and blissfully spent but not tired enough to drift off to sleep and they can’t help but share stories in the dark. 

He might not be up for talking later with the heat in Kurt’s expression, a promise Kurt is more than willing to fulfill.

“It was when Sugar came to visit?” Blaine didn’t mean to phrase it like a question; over the years, his misadventures with Sugar have become a bit infamous. It’s more a warning. 

Kurt will never let Blaine live down that one time Sugar thought it would be a good idea to buy him a horse for his 21st birthday when he and Kurt couldn’t even take care of a pet in their tiny New York apartment. It ended well enough despite Kurt being annoyed when Blaine temporarily set his locked screen image on his phone to a picture of Sprinkles (so named by Sugar and Blaine never had the heart to change the name).

“Ah. I see. A _Sugar_ story.”

“Nothing illegal happened.”

“That’s the best thing I want to hear from my fiancé.” Kurt pokes Blaine’s chest and sighs. “ _No laws were broken_. Catch me, I’m swooning.”

“I already have you.”

The brilliant smile Kurt gives him is the most Blaine could ever ask for in this entire damn world. “That you do. And what will you do now that you have me in this position?”

“Um.” Blaine tries not to move as he knows it’s pretty obvious exactly where his mind went considering the state of his dick. “Everything.”

“You should specify.”

Blaine has to bite his lip to keep from groaning as Kurt purposefully shifts and then grins, knowing exactly what he’s doing to Blaine. He causally drapes an arm around Blaine’s shoulders to secure him like Blaine would ever do something foolish and let Kurt go.

“I think we definitely should kick out any stragglers.” Blaine pauses to consider the few people within eyesight of them. “Politely though, of course. And then I have some ideas about what we can do next when we’re alone.”

“Or we could just retire to the bedroom now.”

Blaine tries to keep from making an undignified noise and almost wins. “We could do that.”

“Let’s do,” Kurt says, his tongue wetting his lips before he continues, “that.”

He’s still sitting on Blaine’s lap. “Kurt. You’re going to have to get off, you know, if we’re...going to _get off_.”

“Hmm. I guess I will. Only if you promise you’ll save my spot for next time?”

“It’s yours,” Blaine says as they detangle from each other all but dash to their bedroom to tangle in a far more horizontal manner.


End file.
